


i get a little bit genghis khan, don't want you to get it on (with nobody else but me)

by questionsthemselves



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies)
Genre: Aleta wants to bang their heads together, Dorks in Love, I think this is the very first fic on here with this pairing whaaaaaa, M/M, Martinex is a little shit, Rare Pairings, Rarest of pairs, Stakar's just grinning and proverbially eating popcorn in their general direction, Yondu is a little shit, clearly this is a deficit that needs to be corrected
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-01
Updated: 2017-10-01
Packaged: 2019-01-07 17:35:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12237519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/questionsthemselves/pseuds/questionsthemselves
Summary: Most days, the Ravager life fits Yondu like he was born for it. He’s got co-captains he respects in Stakar and Aleta Ogord, the chance to carouse about space rehoming shines to more deserving owners such as himself – and most of, his freedom.He gets along well enough with most of the crew, and even if there isn’t anyone he’s particularly close to, it doesn’t much bother him. There’s crew mates he’d buy a drink for, ones that he takes a schadenfreudely pleasure in reaming out for their incompetence, and ones that don't matter to him any which way. There’s only one steady exception to those categories – in the form of Stakar’s Pluvian engineer’s mate.Yondu finds nothing in his life so maddeningly frustrating as Martinex T’Naga.





	i get a little bit genghis khan, don't want you to get it on (with nobody else but me)

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to AbominableSnowDude, captain of the Yondex ship, the one responsible for not only ushering me into this particular rare pair hell but also brainstorming this whole idea with me. <3 xxx

Most days, the Ravager life fits Yondu like he was born for it. He’s got co-captains he respects in Stakar and Aleta Ogord, the chance to carouse about space rehoming shines to more deserving owners such as himself – and most of, his freedom. 

He gets along well enough with most of the crew, and even if there isn’t anyone he’s particularly close to, it doesn’t much bother him. There’s crew mates he’d buy a drink for, ones that he takes a schadenfreudely pleasure in reaming out for their incompetence, and ones that don't matter to him any which way. There’s only one steady exception to those categories – in the form of Stakar’s Pluvian engineer’s mate. 

Yondu finds nothing in his life so _maddeningly frustrating_ as Martinex T’Naga. 

 

The day Stakar introduces them, Yondu is struggling to fix the nav charts some rookie has fucked up, and he does nothing but grunt at him distractedly.The name seems vaguely familiar, one of Stakar’s senior crew that had been absent on personal business for the last year if he remembers right.

He can hear Martinex say, “Friendly addition to the crew you’ve got here,” and the gibe makes Yondu’s head snaps up to fix him with his best glare, frozen a moment when his eyes meet someone who’s glittering like diamonds, skin like solid crystal. He’s stunningly shiny and strong-jawed, staring back at Yondu like he finds this whole situation inordinately amusing and something about him makes Yondu’s throat go dry. 

He blinks, shakes it off. 

“Comedian’s clearly not yer calling,” he bites, “maybe you’d do better as a mirror ball at a dance club, Sparkles.”

The low-grade frustration he’s been feeling all day over this instance of his fellow Ravagers incompetence has him itching for a good old-fashioned brawl, and now he’s just given the man an excuse to start one. 

But to his baffled annoyance, Martinex doesn’t do anything but fold his arms, and smirk.

“Aw, but then I wouldn’t get to drive M-ships really fast,” he drawls out.

Yondu narrows his eyes.

“How ‘bout a dash ornament then.” 

He stands up, shifting from foot to foot, settling his weight for the fight that has to be coming, except… Martinex just huffs out a laugh, keeps grinning and worse, he’s not reacting. He’s not reacting to the insult _at all_ and it makes Yondu’s flush, his ears heating up with, with– with fury, that’s it, he’s _furious_ that Martinex is just standing there all glittery and perfect, and not fighting him. 

 

Their interactions never get any better. The first time Yondu takes a swing at him over cutting him off in the corridor, Martinex doesn’t even fight back _,_ he just blocks his fists and snipes sarcastic little comments until Yondu is flushed and raging, throwing wild glancing blows that don’t seem to phase the Pluvian one bit.

Stakar tries to half-heartedly mediate a time or two. They don’t let it impede their jobs though and surprising everyone, in the field they fight smooth and steady, covering each other like they’ve fought at each others backs their whole lives. To Stakar’s frustration and Aleta’s amusement, it only lasts as far as the end of the job before Yondu’s back to needling Martinex. 

Yondu thinks cantankerously it’s almost like the more wound up he gets the calmer Marty is. Nothing he does ever works, and no matter how much Yondu pushes Marty’s as implacable as the crystal he resembles. 

 

“So,” Charlie-27 sits next to Yondu in the mess hall, “crew’s taking bets on what it’s gonna finally take for Martinex to snap.” 

“Crew needs to keep their beaky noses outta our damn business,” Yondu gripes back. “Ain’t none of their concern.”

“Aw, you know how everyone is, wouldn’t be a proper ship without scuttlebutt about everyone and everything floating around,” Charlie slings a heavy arm over Yondu’s shoulder, “Take the lumps, or figure out how t’make nice with him.” 

“Or I could just make sure they’re all reintroduced to my business end of m’arrow,” he grumbles half-heartedly, pushing ineffectually at Charlie-27’s side. Unfortunately has a feeling Stakar wouldn’t hold with that over something so relatively harmless. 

After all, it’s not interfering with Ravager business, or causing any real problems with daily operations. Yondu almost wishes it would – he’s not even looking for Martinex to snap back at him exactly, he just wants Martinex to stop acting like everything Yondu does just rolls off his back like water, like Yondu doesn’t even matter. 

Every time they argue Yondu can feel his chest getting all warm with something that’s positively, _definitely_ hate, at the way Marty is perfectly calm and sarcastic and so damn _shiny_. 

It’s infuriating. 

Deep down somewhere, he not even sure anymore why he needs to push this so badly. Mostly he ignore that part, and decidedly refuses to think on it **.**

 

Yondu doesn’t even remember what anymore they were fighting about this time. Martinex had made some comment during their shared shift on the bridge that had set Yondu off, and he had thrown a wild punch which Marty had easily ducked, then he’d thrown another which Marty had caught in a glittering palm. The nonchalance with which he'd done it had made Yondu flash from simmering to incandescent.  Like every time before his well-trained moves were dissolving in the face of Marty’s calm and by now he’s devolved to jabbing ineffectively, panting, pushing forward and trying to drive Marty back towards the wall. 

As quickly as it’d come though, the hot bubble burst of anger is draining out of him and his last few swings do absolutely nothing but bring him closer to Marty, and then he’s looking up, realizes that they’re only a few inches apart. Marty’s hands are resting firm and smooth on his arms, holding Yondu back, and his face is right there, lips still quirked in that damn grin as he says, “You good now?” 

Yondu swallows, feels his brain start to fuzz over, hyperaware of how fast his pulse is beating in his throat. He tries to think of something to say, but all his words are slipping through his fingers. Watching him, Marty’s face is slowly turning all intent, staring down at him with something hot in his eyes and then he’s leaning in, moving closer, hands sliding up Yondu’s shoulders to cup his face.

Martinex’s hand is cool against his flushed-warm skin, and Yondu licks his lips, manages to croak out, “What–” as he feels himself going hot and dizzy and suddenly Marty’s kissing him. Marty’s _kissing_ him, and he thinks startled _oh,_ ** _this_** _is what I wanted. This is what I meant._

Although the Ravagers are a physically demonstrative bunch, he hasn’t done more than meet someone’s quick jubilant press of lips, and he’s not really sure how it’s all supposed to work – but damn if he’s ever let that stop him before, so he’s kissing back, hard, and hot, and clumsy.  Marty meets him, pushes back, sliding a firm hand to the nape of Yondu’s neck to tilt his head, take control and slot them together, fuck his tongue into Yondu’s mouth.

Every touch is ramping him higher, and Yondu’s not thinking about it he’s justmoving, fluttering rough hands on Marty's sides, smoothing up his back, his chest, and reaching up to thumb behind Marty’s ear, and he's never felt like this, never felt anything like this and he realizes he's almost shivering with intensity of it.

He vaguely registers the crew's ribbing in the background, catcalling and whistling, but then Marty growls against his lips, bites, and Yondu's mouth is falling open with the hot shudder it sends down his spine and _fuck_ , he's feeling Marty's leg between his thighs, pressing up and he's being pulled into it tight and it feels so good, _Martinex_ feel so good against him. He pushes harder, demanding, into Marty's grip, straining closer, and Yondu can hear himself making a noise that sounds suspiciously like a whine but he doesn't even care anymore, just wants the feeling of this to never stop.

Of course, they’re on the bridge of a Ravager ship, and they aren’t uninterrupted for long.

“Ha! I _knew_ it, Stakar owes me 50 units,” Yondu startles at the sound of Aleta next to his ear and he pulls reluctantly away to see her standing there, arms folded triumphantly with a shit-eating grin on her face. 

“He should know better than to bet against me, I’m always right about these things,” she says tapping her nose wisely, then she’s loping up to sling an arm around each of their shoulders, rub her knuckles against their heads as Yondu squawks and tries to dodge and Marty takes it the mien of years of long-suffering practice. 

Stakar pokes his head through the bridge door as if summoned, blinks, and then sighs as he reaches up to pinch the bridge of his nose. 

“They figured it out, didn’t they,” he grumbles, fishing around his pocket for his credit stick, “you two couldn’t have waited another couple weeks, I would have won double.”

Yondu shifts his gaze between Stakar and Aleta, can’t decide which one deserves his glare more, but then Marty’s ducking out from Aleta’s arm, and steering Yondu by the shoulder towards the bridge door as he says, “How about we take this somewhere with a few less onlookers, hmm?” 

And Yondu’s nodding, trying to not look too eager as he says, “I s’ppose,” but from the way Marty grins at him, he doesn’t believe his nonchalance. 

That’s okay though. Yondu finally knows the best way to wipe that smirk off his face, and he’s gonna enjoy the hell out of doing it.

**Author's Note:**

> comments are <3


End file.
